Page 57 of Rawhide and Ransom

“We also still don’t know who’s helping my sister.” Annalee viciously dug a hole into the potting soil with her hand trowel and plopped the next seedling into it.

* * *

But I do.

Running Bear turned away from the open window in the back of Hawk’s shop. He’d been hunkered down listening for the past half hour or so. Miley had joined him there for a few minutes before returning inside to resume her carving.

She was adorable and as smart as a whip, too. He couldn’t possibly be prouder of the kid. She was another reason he had to do what he was about to do. She didn’t deserve to spend the rest of her life looking over her shoulder.

After what he’d overheard today, it was time to pay a long overdue visit to his brother. Ace’s witch of a wife would never allow it, because she was too afraid of someone convincing her dying husband to reconsider the terms of his last will and testament. Any hope Running Bear had of seeing his brother before he passed was going to require a detour to Dakota Farm.

He made his way to the shed on the far side of Hawk’s property, where he kept the few belongings that weren’t part of his usual nomadic lifestyle. Unlocking the door, he reached for the helmet he kept on a hook inside the door and pulled it on. Then he stepped inside to yank the protective blanket off his black Harley Road King.

Mounting it, he revved the motor to warm it up. Then he rolled it from the shed. Kicking the door shut behind him, he revved the motor again and took off.

It felt good being on the road again. He took a back lane that skirted the more populated parts of the rez. When he reached the front gate, he gave the attendant a lazy salute and increased his speed. He had the proverbial “miles to go before he slept,” so there was no time to waste.

It took more than an hour to reach the hospital, where his brother was still hanging on by a thread.I hope.Instead of pulling into the parking lot where Rosamund had rammed her fool car into Hawk’s pickup truck, he kept riding. He rode until he reached the enormous log entrance of Dakota Ranch. By some twist of fortune, the security gate was propped open.

He rumbled past it on his Harley and waved at the security cameras. The fella he was coming to see was welcome to consider it his calling card.

The Dakotas’ white farmhouse rose in front of him as massive as a medieval fortress. It was probably complete with a dungeon, though he wouldn’t be staying long enough to find out.

He braked in front of the double entrance doors. Almost immediately, the one on the right opened. Out rolled a man in a wheelchair.

He looked good for a fella who’d been chained to a chair for over thirty years. He was taller than Running Bear had been expecting. More muscular, too, like he spent a decent amount of time at the gym.

Good for you, kiddo.

Running Bear liked the fact that Edward Dakota had kept living. From what he understood, Ace’s stepson now managed the entire operation at Dakota Farm.

Running Bear killed the motor on his bike and removed his helmet, dangling it from his handlebars. “Hello, Edward. My name is Uri Dakota.”

Edward Dakota gave him a cautious smile. “I know who you are, sir. It’s good to finally meet you.”

Running Bear was pleased by his response. “May I join you on the porch?”

“It depends on why you’re here, sir.”

“Only to talk.” Running Bear lifted his tunic a few inches to prove he wasn’t armed. Then he lifted the legs of his trousers one at a time for the same reason.

Edward finally beckoned him forward. “Would you like any refreshments?”

“Nah, I won’t be staying long.” Running Bear didn’t even plan to take a seat. All he wanted was to stretch his legs a little and get close enough to look his nephew by marriage in the eye. Some things in life were best handled man to man.

He walked halfway up the porch steps and paused, not wanting to crowd his host. “You have a kind heart. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be helping Mirabelle Gilbert.”

A layer of ice appeared over Edward’s dark gaze. To his credit, he didn’t deny it. “Why are you here?” His voice grew clipped.

“Because I need your help, as well.”

Edward’s jaw grew hard, but he gestured for him to continue.

“I’d like to see my brother before he dies.” Running Bear didn’t have to fake the crackle of emotion in his voice. “But the only way that’ll ever happen is if?—”

“I call off the guard dog,” Edward finished for him. He produced a cell phone and started to tap out a message on his screen. When he was finished typing, he laid his phone face down on his knee. “Is there anything else I can do for you, sir?”

“Would you let me take you out for lunch when this is all over?” Running Bear had no idea how someone as evil as Rosamund had raised such a respectable young man. Edward was the antithesis of his mother.

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